The Color Sorrow
by IHateBobBison
Summary: Make your life worth living, Mikasa. Get up, Mom. I said make it worth living, I didn't say you have to be worth something. Wh-what? Find meaning in something. You and dad are the only people who have ever loved me, you can't go.


I saw a previous story about Mikasa having a nightmare and going to Eren about it, and I wanted to rewrite it :)

The embroidery in her hands felt so warm, it was like a patch of sunlight that had settled onto her palms. She didn't notice how far away her father looked in the darkness of the cabin, and he was shrouded in darkness. She didn't notice the hardness of the chair she was sitting on, nor did she notice the cool draft that blew through the house. The small shoes on her feet were feathers of cloth, and the gown she was wearing was fresh from the wash. _I feel so calm_.

The silence that permeated the scene was tranquil, eerie almost. Her father was at the door, and her mother was by her side. Her mother was smiling and beautiful, her father was happy and beautiful. The simple brown sound to the room was soft in her chest. It expanded and she felt it on her tongue, she felt it creep up into her eye sockets. Her black hair blistered in the breeze that chilled her nose.

 _Dad is on the ground._

Her mother disappeared from her side, and in a fleeting flurry, Mikasa saw her mother screeching at the men who had just killed her husband. There was never a defining moment, the acts were blurred by ambiguity.

 _What?_

The soft brown silence turned into a messy, jagged panic. The flames of fear licked her toes as she stood in alarm, only to see the warm contents of her mother's head spill on the floorboards. All of her mother's thoughts were gushing into the gout of the splintering wood panels, and they whispered to Mikasa. They whispered the dying words of a woman from a dying race from a dying species.

 _Make your life worth living, Mikasa._

 _Get up, Mom._

 _I said make it worth living, I didn't say you have to be worth something._

 _Wh-what?_

 _Find meaning in something._

 _You and dad are the only people who have ever loved me, you can't go._

These words came softly from the red lips of death, and they dripped with loneliness. Sorrow was now a color, and it painted behind Mikasa's eyelids the same.

 _Cold_.

She woke calmly. The color of sorrow clung to her mind, although that was all it was; a color. It wasn't physical nor was it real. It was just a color. Her eyes were sticky with sleep and tears, and the perpetual feeling of deep slumber pushed into her stomach.

She was trembling. She had been having this same nightmare since it happened when she was a child. She never understood the meaning of her mother's words in the dream. She didn't understand the abstractness to the images. It frightened her on a deeper level, deeper than the grinning face of any Titan she had ever encountered. Not many things made Mikasa fear, really fear, but this did. This and the thought of her not being able to protect Eren.

The dry salt by her eyes washed down her cheeks as more tears welled up at the thought of Eren. She reached her hand under the pillow her head was resting on, and she pulled out the red scarf. She kept it under her pillow because it was as close as she could be to him at night.

As children, they had shared a bed together, and since the beginning of training, they hadn't been put in the same barracks. Mikasa never said anything against it, and neither did Eren. She wanted to, and he probably wouldn't mind either way. That was just Eren.

Usually when she had this dream as a child, she would wake with a start, and Eren was there to comfort her. He would just pet her arm as she caught her breath. He was not a gentle person, but he always tried for her.

She intertwined her fingers into the downy fabric of the scarf, and the warmness from her dream started to permeate her fingertips. The blue darkness around her echoed with the silence of no other life. All her bunk mates were gone at this point. They were dead, or they left.

She felt her muscles quivering, and the fear she felt constricted every part of her body. She was overwhelmed with a crushing sense of devastation. It was a sudden feeling of falling down a pit and desperately trying to claw out. It had been a long time since she had actually cried. She sank deeper into her blanket, covering herself completely.

She made sure not to put the scarf near her wet face as she sobbed the color sorrow into the crook of her elbow. She liked the color of the scarf too much.

About an hour after she had started, the floorboards of the hall outside her room croaked. She had stopped crying by this time, and her eyes were soupy and swollen with tears. She quickly stilled her body and slowed her breathing. The creaking was now in her room, and she slipped her eyelid open just barely enough to see past her wet eyelashes.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Eren whispered as he padded to the bunk next to hers, "I just came to get an extra blanket." Embarrassment ignited her already hot cheeks. Of course he would know if she was faking being asleep.

"It's alright," she said with the least amount of voice she could use. She didn't want him to know. She didn't really know how to talk to him about it anymore. His retreating footsteps stopped.

"Mikasa? Are you sick?" the sound of his big feet slapped back towards her. _Fuck_.

"No."

"If you are, you should go to the doctor tomorrow. You can't fight if you're sick."

She didn't reply in the hopes he would ignore her this time. Out of all the times for him to ignore her, she wanted him to do it now.

"What's wrong?" his voice inquired a few inches from her face. She felt the pit of her stomach grow uncomfortable. She really didn't want to whine to him about her nightmares.

"Go to sleep, Eren. We have training tomorrow."

She felt him perch on the edge of her bed.

"Are you mad at me for what I said earlier? About me, like, not needing you?" he paused, "I didn't mean it. I never do." he whispered semi frantically. "I'm sorry, Mikasa, I really am. I'm pretty shitty."

The heat of tears stung her ducts again, and she was hit with the thought of him caring about her so much. She was surprised by the abruptness of what he said. He wasn't one to whip out an apology so easily.

"Hey, are you crying?" the soft alarm in his voice made her embarrassment swell. She turned away from him and hid her face in her forearms.

He swung his legs onto her bed and she felt his sharp knee brush her hip. He didn't say anything, for he knew that when she cried, she had a reason. They sat that way for a few moments, Mikasa shaking, Eren still, an unusual flip.

"What's wrong?" he gathered the courage. She felt him pivot in the bed so he was now facing the same way as her, and his thigh touched her shoulder.

"I had the nightmare again," her voice was barely audible. Eren's eyes belonged to the sea. They widened as he made the brief realization. She stared at the wooden wall, still not looking at Eren who was on the other side of her.

She felt his spindly hands pry the blanket from her grip, and he slid his legs next to hers into the cocoon of wool. He turned on his side, propping his head with his hand, looking at the back of her head.

"Was it any different?"

"No."

The turt response from her alarmed him even more. Usually she would say something about it, how it was more horrible or how the face of her father was never visible. He remembered the graphics of the description of her dream.

It was different, though. She had never heard her mother tell her that being worth something is different than finding something to live for. She tightened her shoulder blades as a new wave of tears fell onto her pillow.

"Why are you crying then?" he knew it would provoke her, but enough for her to respond.

"I'm not," her weak response fell from her trembling lips.

"Look at me."

She held her breath.

"Look at me, Mikasa." His voice cut through the blue around them.

She felt as if she were an old cabinet trying to be opened. She turned from facing the wall to facing the face of Eren. She felt creaky and drippy. She kept her eyes firmly clamped together.

"What?" her usual strong voice was now childlike. It wasn't an inquiring 'what', it was laced with stubbornness and refusal.

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?" her mouth thick with the sorrow she was trying to swallow.

He sighed. He put his hand on the side of her cold face and pulled her forehead to his. She stayed absolutely frozen as he closed his eyes and said nothing. The touch of his skin sang with heat on her's, and suddenly she had an urge to pull him closer, allowing the heat to touch her entire body. She was filled with fear and remorse and her forehead was warm. The thought of what he was doing derailed her thoughts, and the sweetness of the moment overwhelmed her. Her want for the heat to spread into every part of her overwhelmed her. He seemed to know.

Eren draped his long arm over her and scooted up so her head rested on his chest. He cradled her head in his arms and he could feel the disbelief radiating from her.

"What are you doing?," her voice was muffled by his chest. Their breathing added rhythm to the chorus of the blue night.

"I did this all the time when we were kids. Sometimes you would cry in your sleep, and to make you shut up I'd grab your head," she heard the smile in his voice.

His presence made her warm. Everything about him was warm. His anger was warm, his heart was warm, the smell of his hair was warm. The memory of their childhood was warm.

"I know I'm a shithead, and I know I'm the worst brother ever," his voice was hollow in his chest.

"But you're going to be ok, and I'll make sure you are."

This time the tears were not a wave, and this time they were not hidden. Her still body jolted, and her fingers balled the back of his shirt. She turned her head so her ear was on his heartbeat, and she sobbed. She grabbed him closer and he let her. She cried wet sorrow onto his chest, and he waited. He let it dry. The spirit of sleep brushed her hand on their soft faces, and Mikasa's eye grew heavier.

His warmth had washed over Mikasa's cold body, and after what seemed like hours, she peeled herself from his bony frame. Her chest stung with mucus and the spark of embarrassment singed her ribs. She lifted her saturated cheek from his shirt and rested her head on his arm. She felt she had finally pulled herself together. He had dozed off, but her movement gently pulled him out of sleep. They locked eyes for the first time since he had come into her barrack. His eyes were so defined, so existent.

His sleepy state made him incredibly more touchy, and his usual sharp features melted into a sheepish grin. He pulled her closer, putting his chin on the top of her head.

"Go to sleep. I won't leave," his voice mushy from sleepiness. He fell back into sleep, and as his heartbeat echoed in her ear, Mikasa quickly saw that sorrow was transparent to the color Eren painted her entire body.


End file.
